alittlepoison

mowing lawns:
borrowing a little bit of grass
glasses filled with icy white wine
music blaring out of the upstairs room
mine
scrambled eggs and bacon wrapped in tortilla
dishes piling up
saying that you will see me later
an electric mower
a hedgehog
a slower sunday afternoon than all of those that have gone before
a knock at the door
a ring of the bell
a stumbling step to let you back in
the whipper snipper
battery recharged
your head in my lap and some laughter from something
your breasts and my hand and tonight and last night
all the nights
a top up and a toke and then back to work
extraction of weeds
why are you leaving me?

making guacamole:
your avocado meets my avocado
my sour cream meets your dismissal
our onions agree though the fineness of chopping is again (of course)
cause for argument
(this course is starters just wait for the main)
you rue the absence of garlic as i do tabasco
we both complain
your inclusion of lemon meets utter scorn
my scorn is met with furrowed brow
and then its tasting time
right
now
we need a witness?
the rest is history and though i told you
warned you
not to fuck with me when it comes to guacamole
i meant something so much more
don’t make me crawl
why are you leaving me?

stinky rubbish:
i recently realised i could fall in love again
i met her on a saturday morning
the night was spent sleeping (not knowing her) on the couch in her house
suffering under the influence of indian whiskey
and when i awoke
wiped the specks from my eyes and let in the light
looked for my friend
wandered around
outside
and there she was (she was)
our conversation flowed and ebbed on a tide
the waxing outlasted the waning
suggested a hope
but?
then?
my nostrils flared the next night
(i was invited back)
a familiar scent
their rubbish had been left for love and loss and life
your kitchen appeared
suddenly
hopefully?
in finite nasal clarity
misery wrapped like a warm blanket around me
you and your lot never kitchen cleaned once
once again
why did you leave me?